Of Guilt and Hobbits
by camilliatook
Summary: When something happens in Merry's life he thinks he could have prevented, he will need the help and support of his cousin. Non-slash. Pre-quest.


I wrote this story, with the help of Budgielover, for the wonderful Marigold. Marigold is someone who will help friends and strangers alike, and who will take the time to write truly lovely letters to a person she's never met. I think anyone who has ever gotten a letter from her or has come to know her will agree. Marigold works so hard for everyone else that she needs something for herself. She has helped other writers write a couple of stories for me, as gifts, so I figured she needed a special gift to show her how much we appreciate and love her. ~Sam (camilliatook)  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own anything except for Harmadas.  
  
Of Guilt and Hobbits  
  
"Merry," Frodo said from where he stood in the parlor doorway, watching his two cousins relax. Merry was leaning against a couch while Pippin leaned against Merry's familiar shoulder. Quiet singing was going on in the Bag End kitchen where Sam was finishing up the dinner dishes. Merry looked up at Frodo's tone, his face slowly losing its smile and his blue eyes darkening with concern.  
Merry had been working hard for a twenty five year old and his father had felt that he had been working too hard and had sent him and his younger cousin, Pippin, to Bag End for a well deserved holiday. The only thing they had to do was stay out of trouble, something that the two hobbits were never any good at. The tween and the seventeen year old had already given poor Sam more work than normal. Sam now had to hide the mushrooms that he was planning on serving with supper from not only Frodo but now also his two young cousins.  
"What's wrong?" Merry asked warily, getting slowly to his feet. Frodo was wearing his 'I have bad news' expression. Frodo just sighed and looked pointedly at Pippin, who had gotten to his feet to stand beside Merry. The teen looking worriedly between his elders, catching Frodo's grieved expression as well as Merry's suddenly tense appearance.  
"Um, Pip? How about you go get us some tea?" Merry said, never taking his eyes off Frodo. Pippin grumbled but did what his cousin asked of him. He left the parlor, shutting the door behind him. Frodo went and dropped into Bilbo's old over stuffed-chair. Merry just stood in front of the roaring fireplace, gazing into the heart of the flame, like he was trying to see what lay ahead, already knowing nothing good could come from this discussion.  
"Well, what is it?" Merry said, finally turning to look at Frodo. Frodo looked at Merry, knowing he wasn't about to relax until he heard the news. "I've received a letter from Brandy Hall today. It's from your father."  
"What's it say?" Merry said warily, still standing. Frodo sighed, wishing he would sit down and try to relax.  
"Young Harmadas Brandybuck drowned in the river three days ago," Frodo said quietly. He watched as Merry stiffened in realization. Harmadas Brandybuck, or Harm to his friends, was a nine-year-old hobbit that Merry had taken under his wing after Uncle Bilbo had his astonishing party and left for Rivendell, the majestic city of the Elves. Merry looked at Frodo, searching his sympathetic gaze before turning his back to him once more. Frodo inhaled sharply at the look he saw in his younger cousins eyes.  
"Merry," Frodo said quietly, "I've been told I'm a good listener." Frodo saw the signs that told Frodo that Merry was trying to hide something. There was nothing that this youngster could hide from his older cousin. Merry had always been able to tell Frodo anything that had ever bothered him when they both lived in Brandy Hall. Unfortunately, when Frodo had moved to Hobbiton with Bilbo, the close friendship they had shared had cooled off a little. They were still close but now Merry had a tendency to hide his feelings from everyone, including Frodo. Whatever he was hiding, it was causing him pain.  
Merry sighed, knowing that Frodo wasn't going to take the excuse that he didn't want to talk. That was the way Frodo was, never actually prying but somehow still getting hobbits to talk about what's troubling them by just being there and speaking a few soothing phrases.  
"It's nothing, Frodo," Merry said, the slight tremor in his well- mannered voice giving away the lie. The young hobbit abruptly turned and headed for the parlor door. "Merry, wait." The softly spoken hobbit never had to raise his voice; the silent command behind the words was enough to stop an Oliphant in a charge, or at the very least one single hobbit lad with a secret that weighed heavily on his heart. Merry slowed his rapid strides to a halt, ending at the door but never turning back to face Frodo. "Merry, I've known you since before you where born. I was with you as a lad. You can tell me anything that might be troubling you," came Frodo's voice. Finally Merry turned to face his cousin. "That may be so, but I need to be alone to think things out. The same thing you needed all those years ago when your parents drowned in the very same river." "Just be careful," came the gentle reply, showing Frodo's understanding. Merry turned back to the door and, opening it, stepped out into Bag Ends hallway to get his coat. Pippin was just coming from the kitchen with the tea, while Sam followed behind, carrying a tray of biscuits.  
"Where you going Merry?" Pippin asked with an innocently concerned look. Merry just mumbled something and grabbed his jacket.  
"Mr. Merry, beggin' your pardon and all, but I wouldn't go for a walk if I was you. It's going to storm or I ain't a Gamgee," Sam said, looking out the hall window. The sky was dark, even though it was only a little after six on a cold winter evening, and the pressure was falling. Sam, as a gardener, was able to tell what the weather would bring by looking and feeling it in his bones and he was usually right.  
"I'll be fine. I'll be back in a while." With that, Merry left Bag End, shutting the door quietly behind him. That he quietly shut the door was sign enough of his mood. If he had been fine he would have slammed it, as was his wont. Pippin stepped forward as if to follow but Sam, with one look from Mr. Frodo, put a hand on the youngsters shoulder. "But Frodo, he needs me," Pippin complained.  
Pippin looked up to his older cousin, Merry. For as long as he could remember, Merry had been there for him whenever he needed him, be it help with schoolwork or when he was feeling down. Merry had always been there and now when he needed Pippin, Frodo and Sam wouldn't let him go to his best friend. It wasn't fair! With that thought, he stomped his foot in frustration and Sam, being used to the ways of Frodo's cousin, moved his foot out of the way in a quick and practiced reaction.  
"Pippin," Frodo admonished. Pippin glanced sheepishly at Sam. Sam returned the young hobbit's gaze with thinly disguised amusement. After a moment, Pippin smiled his charming little smile and made puppy dog eyes to Sam. Sam smiled back at him, unable to take offence with the Took. Even so, Frodo cleared his throat, letting Pippin know that even though Sam wasn't upset with him, that was no way for a seventeen year old gentlehobbit to be behaving.  
"Give him a moment, Pip. He needs to think some things out by himself," Frodo said, understanding Pippin's wish to go after his cousin, yet also understanding Merry's need to be alone for a while. "Come on, let's go in by the fire and I'll tell you one of Uncle Bilbo's old stories. How's that sound?"  
"All right," Pippin reluctantly agreed. They went into the parlor and reclined on pillows in front of the fireplace. Frodo told of Smaug and of breathtaking and precious treasure while Sam and Pippin relaxed around him, listening to him retell a story bursting with giant spiders and Elves and one brave hobbit. Sam loved the part where Bilbo met with Lord Elrond, the immortal Master of Rivendell. To Sam's way of thinking, the Elven lord must be the most regal and most noble being in all of Middle-Earth.  
Pippin, try as he might, could not immerse himself into the story despite Frodo's wonderful speaking voice and his use of tones and facial expressions to make a truly enchanting story come to life. His thoughts kept going back to Merry. When, half an hour into the story, thunder and lighting started to storm in the sky and the rain began to fall in buckets, Pippin leaped to his feet, and before either Frodo or Sam knew what the teen was about, ran out into the violent storm in search of his beloved cousin.  
*****  
  
'Drowned' the word rang out clearly in Merry's mind. Harmadas was dead. Drowned in the Brandywine three days before. Merry couldn't wrap his understanding around the thought. Harmadas, young Harm.dead. He couldn't understand. The words couldn't didn't make sense. They were like pieces of a puzzle that refused to fit, as if they belonged to another puzzle entirely. Merry walked blindly down the Hill, away from Bag End towards the river that ran through Hobbiton, lost in his thoughts and confusion.  
Harm couldn't be dead. Just last month Merry had taught him how to climb a tree in real Buckland fashion. He had laughed at Harm's excitement at being able to hang upside down in an old apple tree. His curly locks of brown hair that was constantly in his warm, sparkling brown eyes. His clear nine year old laugh, brimming with giggles. Merry couldn't picture Buckland without him.  
'Stupid! You're so stupid Meriadoc! It's all your fault. If you weren't so stupid and selfish and lazy, he would still be alive!' Merry swiped angrily at the tears that continued to fall without his permission. Lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the rain and the bare branches of the old trees that reached up to the Heavens, like a wasted, wraith like creature reaching for the comfort of the stars. Merry gave up trying to bush away the tears and let them mingle with the pouring rain.  
'You promised! You promised that you would teach him to swim and what do you do? You go off and leave him in order to meet with other friends. He kept coming to you to ask you to teach him and you kept putting it, and him, off. It's all your fault!' "It's all my fault," he sobbed out.  
Merry's wave of self-accusations was interrupted when he reached the Bywater. The great river rushed past the town of Hobbiton, it's black waters briefly illuminated by the flashes of light that continued to tear through the sky. He turned east, figuring that would be the smoothest and the safest way to walk without being forced to turn from his thoughts in order not to fall on a rough path. As he walked he continued to berate himself, swearing that and utterly convincing himself that he was at fault for Harm's death.  
The old oak trees that lined the river swayed threateningly in the wind until one extremely heavy gust of wind tore an old branch off and sent it hurtling towards Merry. The tween was so wrapped up in his misery that he never saw the danger. One second he was looking at the ground, the next he was being hurtled towards the embankment. Towards the muddy, swirling waters of the Bywater.  
  
*****  
Pippin ran from Bag End, away from both Frodo and Sam's shout of surprise and alarm, without any conscious thought or plan. All he knew was that Merry, his Merry, was out there somewhere, out in the driving rain that kept pounding onto young Pippin's undersized body. Pippin ran instinctively towards his and Merry's 'special' place. The clear pool of water that seeped up from an underground pool was just the right depth for two weary young hobbits to swim in. And being a Brandybuck and a Took, they both knew how to swim and enjoyed it.  
Arriving at the Pool, Pippin glanced desperately around. He looked in the tall oak trees and in the pool itself. Cold fear seized his heart when he couldn't find Merry anywhere. He was sure that Merry would come to the place that he said always help him to relax. Pippin then sat down on the 'chair', which, in truth, was a large, smooth rock. He thought about where his cousin could have gone. If he wasn't at the pool, then he was...Yes. That was it! That had to be it. Merry was at the river.  
That thought had barely had time to register when Pippin realized the danger. The river! The rain continued to pour down as Pippin ran towards the river that ran along the northern edge of Hobbiton. The Bywater ran from the river Lune to the Brandywine.  
Pippin never even noticed the thick branches that slapped at him, nor the stinging that even the cold couldn't erase. His only thought was for Merry.  
' Think, Pippin. Which way could he have gone? If he left from Bag End, he would have went north. That's the quickest way to reach the Bywater. If he started north, then he would have reached it in ten to fifteen minutes and he would have followed it east.'  
The young Took followed the Bywater east, taking twenty minutes to search an area that would normally take five to travel. The rain has raised the water level and Pippin wasn't going to take the chance that he would miss Merry if Merry was.Pippin refused to finish that thought. In all probability, Merry was just sitting on a rock, thinking. At least that was what Pippin told himself. He was so intent on watching the edge of the raging, muddy river that he almost missed the weak call for help.  
Pippin froze, every muscle in his young body taut. Hope, fear and excitement all swept threw him at the same time. Hope that Merry was near and alive, fear that his over active imagination had produced the call and excitement that maybe, just maybe, he would find his Merry soon and safe. He strained his ears, hoping against hope to catch the cry again. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to the teen, he heard it again.  
"Help, please help me," the cry came again, thready and weak but definitely that of Merry. Pippin nearly jumped for joy, but the strength that was normally behind his older cousins voice was absent, something Pip, being only seventeen, heard, yet did not understand.  
"Merry!" Pippin cried, drawing gingerly near the edge of the embankment. He could see where something, or someone, had slid down over the edge. In the muddy bank he could see a smooth area where someone might have slipped down over the edge.  
"Pippin? Pip, what...Don't come any closer, you'll fall in! The banks not very sturdy," came the slightly stronger reply, as if just having his cousin near at hand lent Merry strength. Pippin froze, then dropped on his hands and knees and inched forward. Reaching the edge, Pippin gasped, unable to control the shudder of fear that raced through him. Merry was there, on an edge that barely held Merry's weight. As Pippin watched in shocked horror, small chunks of earth cascaded down into the swirling waters of the Bywater.  
"Hey Pip," Merry said with a tired grin, "nice of you to find me."  
"Merry, are you hurt?" Pippin couldn't help the slight tremor in his voice, try as he might to hide his fear. His older cousin, his Merry, rested on the ledge. The same ledge that was the only thing keeping him out of the raging river. Merry was bruised but the thing that worried his cousin was a deep gash on the left side of his forehead. The bleeding wound went across his temple, the blood running down the side of his ashen face. Other than that, he looked tired, dirty and scared. That last one surprised Pippin. This was Merry, the same Merry that wasn't afraid of anything.  
"I'm fine Pip," he said in the same tired tone. Pippin, with some shock, recognized two other emotions in Merry's voice, guilt and shame. He decided to leave that line of questions till later, when they were safely out of the cold rain and Merry of that ledge.  
"Merry? How are you going to get out?"  
"I don't know Pippin, I tried to climb out but the bank is too muddy. I don't know what to do," Merry sobbed out. He was tired, cold and still thinking about Harm. All of those dark thoughts led to an uncharacteristic vulnerability. On a normal night he would be the one in control, not his emotions but this obviously wasn't a normal night. "Merry? It's alright, I'll figure something out." This time there was no way the teen could keep the fear and worry out of his voice. Something was unquestionably wrong with Merry. Pippin looked around, trying to think.  
"Come on, Pippin, think! You have to do this for Merry. Um, rope! We need rope. Stupid! There is no rope out here. Come on Peregrin Took!" Pippin continued to talk himself, trying to find a solution. He kicked aside a long pine branch that was in the path. "Wait a minute, the branch!"  
Merry was lying on the ledge, exhausted. His mind was spinning. Or maybe it was him, he wasn't sure. All of a sudden, a large pine tree appeared on the bank above him. Merry gaped at it in astonishment, then he rubbed his eyes. That was no tree. It was a branch that was connected to...Pippin. Suddenly it made sense in Merry's head. He knew what Pippin was about.  
"Merry! I'm lowering the branch down. Try to grab on to it and climb. I'll work at pulling you up," Pippin called down to him, self-doubt evident in his young voice.  
"You're brilliant Pip, a real Took. Actually, I believe that this smartness comes from the Brandybuck side of you," Merry rambled, trying to comfort Pippin. He was filled with self-blame again. It was his fault Pippin was out here, in the rain, scared. Merry would never forgive himself if anything happened to this cousin too.  
The branch was lowered enough that Merry could grab on. Merry slowly climbed the branch, while Pippin dug in his heels and pulled up with all his might. It was all he could do not to slide towards the edge. But then by some force, he managed to pull Merry the last foot up and over the bank onto steady land. Merry, once safe, collapsed onto the cold, soggy ground, gasping in relief and exhaustion, too worn out to do anything except lie there.  
Pippin dropped be branch and was at Merry's side, sobbing, before he even had the energy to open his eyes. The teen clutched his cousin and sobbed, great heart wrenching cries that tore at Merry's heartstrings. Pippin held onto Merry as if he was a lifeline, the only thing that kept him anchored in the world. All the pent up fear, and hope and worry poured out of him as Merry pushed himself up out of the mud and held him close.  
"Shush, Pip, you're fine. I'm fine. We're both fine. Hush, my Pip, calm down," Merry said, trying to calm his cousin. He sat there in the rain and wind and mud and rocked Pippin, who, after a few minutes, sat up with one last tender hug to Merry. Merry smiled and wiped Pippins tears away, then they both laughed as more fell, mingling with the rain. Merry, though drained, knew he had to get them both out of the icy rain. He helped Pippin to his feet, then lead him into the trees. He headed towards an old pine tree and crawled under the branches, lifting then out of the way for Pippin to wriggle in out of the weather. Pippin got to his knees and leaned towards Merry, trying to look at the wound. Merry sat there passively until Pippin decided to prod it, then Merry told the Took in no uncertain terms to sit down, that his head was fine. Pippin sat back down, observing his older cousin for a few moments.  
"Merry, why did you run out of Bag End?" Pippin finally asked quietly. Merry looked quickly at the ground and began to draw circles in the mud.  
"Something horrific has happened, something I could have prevented."  
"Merry, that's silly. How is Harm's death something you could have prevented?" Pippin said, genuinely confused. He blushed at Merry's sharp look, blessing the darkness that covered the redness that he was sure was spreading to the tips of his pointy ears.  
"Peregrin Took, how do you know about that?" Merry said slowly. Pippin swallowed.  
"Well, I listened. Frodo looked so sad and you looked so worried and I couldn't not find out. I went and told Sam that you two wanted tea and then I went back out to try to listen through the door," Pippin said, slowly looking from the ground to Merry.  
"Pippin, I know from experience that you can't place your ear to that door and hear a thing. How did you hear us?" Pippin looked sheepishly at the ground.  
"Well, Sam came out and, seeing what I was doing, brought me into the closet next to the parlor. You can hear everything real good from in there," Pippin said, his green eyes glowing with delight at this new discovery. Merry stared, unable to believe that he had never discovered that one. It would have come in real handy when....  
Pulling his mind from that train of thought, he tried to look firm but he couldn't quite manage it. "Ah Pip, I don't know."  
"Yes you do, Merry. You just don't want to talk about it," Pip said with unnerving accuracy.  
"I don't suppose you'll let me get away with not talking, will you?" Merry said, without much hope.  
"No."  
"I promised I'd teach him to swim. I promised him that over a year ago. I never found time. I always had other things, better things, to do. Whenever he asked, I put him off. It was my fault," Merry ground out. Pippin looked at his beloved cousin with sympathy.  
"Merry, I hate to mention this but you've been busy helping your father. Let's not forget that he's been sick and so a lot of responsibility fell to you. We haven't been able to actually visit Bag End or at either of the smials for quite some time. You've been busy," Pippin said, trying to show Merry that it wasn't his fault. Merry had a habit of taking on too much responsibility. He was only twenty-five, only a tween, but he acted as if he were already of age.  
"That's no excuse Pip," Merry said. He knew it was his fault. It was, wasn't it?  
"My dear foolish Brandybuck, what did you tell me when the old Took servant, Pola, died and I thought it was my fault because I broke my promise to help her with the rabbit cage? What did you tell me?"  
"I said that it was her time, that they wanted her up it the Over- Heavens. I remember you were heartbroken," Merry said slowly, as if to himself.  
"You also said that Pola wouldn't have wanted me to be upset. She would have wanted me to remember her with smiles" Pippin said softly. He's seen the realization that began to dawn in Merry's eyes. "Harm would want the same thing."  
"You really think it wasn't my fault?" Merry said, still weary and torn with self-accusation. Pippin just hugged him and then pulled him to his feet. "I'll tell you what. Tomorrow we'll have Frodo and Sam drive us to Buckland and you can go to his grave and tell Harm everything that you've told me, alright?"  
"I suppose. Pippin?" Merry said, when Pippin started to walk back to Bag End.  
"Yes, Merry-mine?" He said, reverting back to childhood nicknames.  
"He reminded me of you," Merry said in almost a whisper.  
"What do you mean?" Pippin asked, walking back to where Merry stood. He stood in front of Merry and looked into his eyes.  
"He reminded me of you. He had almost the same smile, the same energy and the same everything as you," Merry said, fresh tears falling from his eyes. "I met him and started to play with him during that time when I didn't see you for so long a few years back. He reminded me of you," he said again.  
Pippin didn't say anything. He just gave his cousin a hug, his eyes filling. "Oh Merry, I had no idea."  
"Come on Pip, let's go back to Bag End. Frodo and Sam are probably frantic by now," Merry said, heading back towards Bag End. He was looking forward to a heated mug of cider and a bath.  
"Yes, I'm sure Frodo has some mushrooms hidden somewhere that we haven't eaten yet," Pippin said with enthusiasm. Merry laughed, finally able to believe that Pippin was right, that he wasn't at fault.  
"Hey, Merry?"  
"Yes, Pip?"  
"What did you mean when you said you knew from experience that you can't hear a thing through the parlor door?"  
"Never you mind, Mr. Took," Merry replied with a chuckle, much to Pippin's disappointment.  
Arriving back at Bag End, Merry was about to knock on the door when it flew open. Frodo stood there, with Sam behind him. They both were armed with towels and coats. At the sight of Merry and Pippin standing there, they gave a shout of surprise and Frodo grabbed a hold of them in a gigantic, loving hug, so hard that Pippin squeaked. Finally letting his two cousins go, Frodo stepped back. "Sam, can you go warm enough water for two baths. And some to clean this cut," Frodo said distractedly, examining the wound. Merry grimaced, resigned to the fate of his sore forehead forever being poked and prodded. "Merry, what happened?" he said as Sam brought the hot water for the wound.  
  
"I was knocked onto a ledge above the river by a branch that the wind blew down," Merry replied, evasively. "That's not what I meant Meriadoc and you know it," Frodo said sternly. "Yes, I know," he took a deep breath. "I blamed myself." Frodo froze, his hand halfway to Merry's head to clean the gash with a warm, damp cloth. He slowly brought the cloth to the cut, wiping away mud and the blood. "What do you mean?" he asked quietly, never stopping the soothing motions of his hand. Merry then preceded to tell Frodo and Sam, tearfully, everything he had told Pippin, except the part about how Harm reminded him of the teen. Pippin sat next to him, always there, holding his hand. Sam excused himself half way through and came back a few minutes later with mugs of warm cider and a bowl of freshly cooked mushrooms for Merry, much to Pippin's (and his stomachs) delight. When he was through, Merry wiped his eyes, oblivious to the fact that there wasn't a dry eye in the room. Frodo got up and went to kneel in front of Merry. "You do understand what Pippin told you, don't you?" he asked, searching his younger cousins eyes. Whatever he saw in Merry's gaze must have satisfied him, for he smiled without Merry saying a word and got up and gave the younger hobbit a hug. Going back to cleaning the wound, Frodo dabbed at the dirt and grime, wincing in sympathy with Merry. After a few minutes of silent care, Frodo finished. "Ok, you two, into the tubs with you," Frodo said, the unspoken command going unchallenged. Merry and Pippin trudged down the hall to the bathing room, where Sam had so kindly set up two tubs brimming with steaming water. Slipping beneath the water level, Merry resurfaced, shaking the water out of his hair with a pleased sigh. "Oh, hot water, what a holy thing," he quoted. Pippin giggled, on a relieved high. His Merry was safe and sound and while not exactly happy, for who could be when a friend has died, but at least he's content and on the road to being happy. After a slightly quieter-than-usual half an hour bath, two exhausted hobbits went to their room, to their respected beds. After only a few hours, Merry was awaken by a warm hobbit wiggling his way under the covers. Merry pulled back the covers to allow Pippin to get under the blankets with him. Pippin cuddled with Merry and then promptly fell asleep. "'Night My-Pip," Merry whispered sleepily, a smile evident in his voice. After that, Merry knew only sunshine and friends in his dreams. The next morning, Frodo finally had to wake Merry and Pippin up after they missed second breakfast. He found them in Merry's bed, curled up. Merry holding onto Pippin and Pippin fast asleep using Merry's arm as a pillow. As much as Frodo hated to wake them up, if they were to get to Buckland and back before dark, they had best leave after elevenses. Waking Merry first, Frodo left them to get ready while he got their breakfast ready.  
Pippin went with Merry to Harmadas' grave and held his hand as Merry laid the most beautiful flower that Sam could find on Harm's grave. Then, turning, they walked slowly back to where Frodo and Sam waited with the pony and cart. As they drove off, Merry looked back one last time. The Sun was just setting behind the grave and she cast her rays over the small mound, giving it a warm, soft, earthly glow. But the most beautiful sight around was the marigold that rested on the sheltering earth, symbolizing the love for one friend to another.  
  
The End We love you Marigold! Sam and Budgielover 


End file.
